


Merlin is Dragoon is Emrys is Merlin -OR- Two Times Arthur Almost Discovered Emrys’ True Identity… And the One Time He Did.

by BekahRose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Magic Revealed, Oblivious Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahRose/pseuds/BekahRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been two times, where Arthur has almost discovered who Emrys is, and thankfully, he's been too oblivious to notice, or too easily redirected. And then, there is that one time, where the truth just happens to fall into his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merlin is Dragoon is Emrys is Merlin -OR- Two Times Arthur Almost Discovered Emrys’ True Identity… And the One Time He Did.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avidrosette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidrosette/gifts).



> Written for [AvidRosette"](http://avidrosette.livejournal.com/) for [Glom_Fest](http://glomp_fest.livejournal.com) over at LiveJournal. Her initial prompt was:
> 
>  
> 
> _"Arthur has become king, but Merlin has not yet revealed his magic. Another sorcerer presents himself at Arthur's court and claims to be the renowned Emrys."_
> 
>  
> 
> The first attempt I made at working with this prompt was binned last Thursday. I think - courtesy of the several AUs I'm working on - that I had forgotten how to write canon. I know it's not 100% everything on your list, AvidRosette, but I have tried to keep it funny, engaging, dramatic and as close to your additional prompt as possible. Thank you so much for such a challenge, and despite the hiccups, I had a lot of fun writing this. 
> 
> Mega thanks to my cheerleaders and betas, V and Wan (and everyone else in Merlin Chat). You guys are brilliant. Thank you!
> 
> \- Any further mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Merlin is Dragoon is Emrys is Merlin**

**-OR-**

**Two Times Arthur Almost Discovered Emrys’ True Identity… And the One Time He Did.**

**1.**

It’s not the first time Dragoon has demanded Arthur carry him this way, and if he calls on him again, he doubts that it will be the last. It’s cumbersome and taxing, but if it gives Arthur a short reprieve from the vaguely familiar blue eyes that are accusing and wary in turns.

“And he’s up those stairs?” The rasping voice of Dragoon whispered in his ear.

Arthur nodded as he said, “He is.”

“Right, well,” Dragoon shifted against Arthur’s back before sliding down with the energy of a man a fraction of his age. “You sit here or go and annoy someone who isn’t important, and I’ll see to Gaius.”

Dragoon began climbing the stairs, stopping half way when he realised that he’d acquired a King-shaped shadow. He stopped and spun around, his eyes flashing as he did his best to glare Arthur down. “I do not require your assistance.” He snapped before turning and fleeing up the stairs as fast as his magically older joints would allow.

Arthur followed on his heels, watching in case the old man took a tumble; arms at the ready just in case he needed to catch him. There was something oddly familiar about Dragoon. The way he refused to cower before the King’s authority and the way he glared down his nose at Arthur, a mixture of mischief and exasperation, gave Arthur the notion that he _knew_ this man and that this man _knew_ him.

“Mer-,” Gaius’ greeting was cut off by a hacking cough that echoed throughout the chambers, causing the old man to double over.

“Gaius!” Arthur shoved past Dragoon and wrapped his arm around the physician’s shoulders, guiding him to the pallet that was normally reserved for Gaius’ patients.

So concerned with Gaius, Arthur didn’t notice the near-slip of Dragoon’s true identity, nor did he notice the sigh of relief that came from Dragoon as he shut the door to the chamber. Taking a deep breath, Merlin pulled the mantle of Dragoon around him once again and turned to face Arthur.

“Well,” he snapped, eyes flashing as he took in the room that was crowded with Gaius’ books and potions and ingredients. “First thing is that this man could do with a decent room, with a decent fire!” He bit back the grin when Arthur looked around the room and really noticed it for the first time. “A cough like that, the man needs as much sunlight and as little damp as possible!”

“Merlin,” Gaius managed to speak. His voice was hoarse and he sounded breathless.

“He’s not here, Gaius.” Arthur said softly, stepping back to make way for Dragoon.

“I don’t know who this ‘ _Merlin_ ’ is, probably got him out slaving away for you, hmm?” Dragoon said as he leaned over Gaius under the pretence of examining the man’s eyes. Once his long white hair had formed a curtain, blocking them from Arthur’s ever-watchful gaze, Merlin winked at Gaius and put his finger to his lips in order to quiet his friend and mentor.

“Well?” Arthur asked, impatience in not just his tone, but the way he stood close by, making sure Dragoon didn’t do anything to hinder Gaius’ recovery.

“He has been cursed,” Dragoon said solemnly, reciting all that he and Gaius had rehearsed in between bouts of trying to get Gaius to drink a sleeping draught. “It is simple enough to cure, but there will be lingering side effects, the least of which will be eased by moving this man to a larger chamber with a larger fire.” He arched one eyebrow when Arthur scowled.

“Without this man, your kingdom would fall into ruin,” Dragoon said, pulling himself up to his full height. “He is a Free Man, made so by your father and he deserves the respect he is due.”

“How did you know he was a free man?” Arthur asked, taking a step closer to Dragoon.

“I’m the Great Dragoon, I know everything.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away from Dragoon, saying, “Fine. Gaius, I shall see to it that larger quarters are arranged for you.” He leaned down and pressed against Gaius’ shoulder until the older man was resting back against the pallet. “Just rest, I’ll see if I can find Merlin for you. Until then, I’m going to send up Leon and Gwen to keep an eye on him.” He gave a sharp nod in Dragoon’s direction before standing up and leaving the room.

When he was gone and the door closed behind him, Merlin slumped down on the side of Gaius’ bed and fumbled for the other man’s hand.

“You were,” Gaius managed between gasping breaths, “supposed to… leave him… downstairs.”

“I tried,” Merlin said softly, the bravado of Dragoon failing in the face of his teacher and friend. “I think after last time, he doesn’t trust me. Not that I blame him.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Merlin.” Gaius said softly, closing his eyes as he fought back another coughing fit.

“It will be if he cottons on to the fact that you kept calling me ‘Merlin’,” Merlin grinned before reaching out to rest his free hand on Gaius’ chest. “Just relax Gaius, you’ll be up and running around the castle again in no time. We can talk about you almost ruining my disguise once you’re better.”

**2.**

The Druids stood at the edge of the forest, secret smiles blossoming on their faces as they looked from Arthur to Merlin and back again. There was a closeness between the King and his servant, but not the closeness that was spoken of in prophecy; it amused and disturbed them in turn. Without their being a united front, the Golden Age of Albion would never come to pass and for them to forge that front, the King needed Emrys, just as Emrys needed the King. One could not lead without the other to light the way.

Arthur sighed and felt every weight of his kingdom resting on his shoulders. “You have something to say?” He asked, watching the Druids carefully.

“What do you know of Prophecy, your majesty?” Caryth, the leader of the Druid delegation asked quietly.

Arthur groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know enough to not be fooled by riddles and tricks of ancient tongues.” Arthur scowled and took a deep breath before motioning on for the Druids to continue. Theirs was a tentative truce, still in the first stages of a fledgling alliance and it wouldn’t do any good to antagonise them.

Caryth raised an eyebrow before turning her gaze to Merlin. “Have you heard of a sorcerer named ‘Emrys’, your Majesty?” She asked, her dark brown gaze holding Merlin’s.

“I have not,” Arthur replied, folding his arms over his chest. Talk of sorcerers and magic was still done with an ingrained wariness that lifting the ban had yet to eradicate.

Caryth’s gaze sharpened and she made a small, almost imperceptible motion with her hand, bringing one of the Druid elders forward. “Arun will gladly inform you of the prophecy regarding the Pendragon heir and the Great Emrys.”

“ _You’ve not informed him of your true nature._ ” Caryth’s voice sounded in Merlin’s mind, making him flinch and drawing Arthur’s attention for a moment.

“Merlin, is there something the matter?” Arthur asked, looking between Merlin and Caryth, not blind to the narrow-eyed stare they were levelling at each other, or the tension that simmered between them; so thick he would have trouble slicing through it with Excalibur.

“Nothing, Sire,” he said softly, his gaze never wavering.

“He knows the Great Emrys,” Caryth responded quickly, smirking at the way Merlin paled slightly and shook his head.

“Merlin?” Arthur turned and eyed his friend and servant closely.

Merlin bit his lip and shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone by that name,” he whispered softly.

“Well then,” Arthur said as he turned to face the Druid delegation. “Merlin knows no one by that name, and if he did, I would know; man can’t keep a secret to save his life.” Arthur motioned for the Druid elder to resume speaking.

“ _You lie._ ” Caryth’s voice echoed in Merlin’s head. “ _You would turn your back on your future… on your destiny and deny your people a land united in peace!_ ”

Merlin refrained from flinching at the anger he could feel battering at his defences – both magical and mental. “ _I turn my back on no one_ ,” he said, hands clenching into fists at his side as he swallowed back a wave of anger at the presumptuousness of this Druid. “ _I stand by my King and will see him lead all of Albion to an age where peace reigns, but I will not be… forced there… by prophecy._ ”

“When Heir is crowned and Magic free, King and Warlock entwined will see, A Golden Age of peace and pride, When Emrys is on Pendragon’s side.” The Druid elder finished and presented Arthur with an age-worn scroll, shooting a quick glare at Merlin when the young warlock scoffed.

“You need Emrys, your majesty,” the Druid spoke softly, head bowed in a show of respect that Arthur wasn’t entirely sure he deserved. “You need him, just as Emrys needs you. Life and Magic… the magic of Emrys, of the Druids, is about balance. Without it, the scales can tip. Too far in one direction and we live a life of fear and persecution, too far in the other and we live in fear and chaos.”

Arthur nodded solemnly and handed the scroll to Merlin. “Very well, I shall have my archivists look at this prophecy and will broach seeking out this Emrys person with my Council.”

“He is closer to you than you believe, King Arthur.” Caryth said, glaring at Merlin once more before bowing low and leading her people back into the forest.

Arthur watched until they had been swallowed up by the shadows of the forest before turning away and shaking his head. He took a deep breath and waved his Knights back over from where they had stood at a discreet distance. “We’re heading back to the castle,” he announced before turning to face Merlin.

“And once we’re there, you and I are going to have a long talk about what it is that you’ve done to annoy the Druids.”

Merlin flinched, swallowed and closed his eyes before nodding and stowing the prophecy in his satchel.

Arthur laughed as he accepted his horse’s reins from Leon and reached over to slap Merlin on the shoulder. “Perhaps you’ve offended her on one of your trips to the tavern?” He teased before pulling himself up into the saddle. “Maybe they’ve told you the prophecy while you’ve been drunk out of your mind and she’s angry that you had the audacity to forget. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s given you important information and you’ve forgotten about it because you’ve been well into your _half_ a tankard of ale.”

As Merlin mounted his own horse, he felt the tension that had settled over him at Arthur having figured out his being Emrys, melt away and he turned his head to roll his eyes at Arthur. “Yes, _Sire_. That _must_ be it, couldn’t possibly be because I serve a prat of a King.”

Arthur’s laughter floated back to him as the last of the Knights mounted their horses and they began the trek back to Camelot.

**3.**

“Sire,” Leon gave a polite, deferential bow of his head before he leaned closer until he could only be heard by Arthur and Merlin. “Arthur… he says he’s ‘Emrys’.”

Arthur sat up straighter in his seat, tilting his head so he could meet Leon’s gaze. “Are you sure?” At Leon’s nod, Arthur straightened his shoulders and reached up to briefly touch a crown that wasn’t there. “Right, well,” he looked at Merlin over his shoulder and watched as he took two careful steps back behind his chair, head bowing in obeisance. “Send him in.”

Leon bowed his head once more before he turned and rushed from the room. Emrys and the Prophecy had been a frequently discussed and dissected topic of conversation of the Round Table and Arthur’s council chambers. Arthur – much to Merlin’s dismay – had sent scouting parties to every corner of Albion with the intent of finding him and bringing him to Camelot. Arthur had countered Merlin’s arguments against bringing the stranger to Camelot by asking him pointedly on several occasions if Merlin wanted to see peace reign across all of Albion and Arthur’s rule lift the country from the shadow of fear that his father had seemed to covet.

“He’s lying.” Merlin said, voice gentle but firm in the knowledge that the man they were about to see was not Emrys. “He’s lying, and he’s come here to insult your honour as High King.”

Arthur sighed and let his head fall forward. “You can’t possibly know that, _Mer_ lin. We’ll let him say his peace, ask about the prophecy and if he knows nothing about it then we’ll send him on his way.” He huffed and looked at Merlin who was standing in the shadows behind Arthur’s seat. “Besides, affairs of state are not really your concern.” Arthur regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth, and as he turned around, could feel Merlin’s glare boring into the back of his seat.

The doors to the council chambers opened and Leon ushered in an elderly man, someone who would not have been out of place on his father’s advisory council. Leon approached the place where Arthur sat at the table and bowed.

“His Royal Highness, Arthur Pendragon, may I present Emrys of the, uh,” Leon stumbled over the introduction and looked from Arthur back to the elderly man. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you told me where you’re from, but it seems to have slipped my mind.”

“That’s quite alright, young man.” The elderly man stepped forward and bowed his head at Arthur. “I am Emrys of the Northern Lands, your Majesty.”

Leon frowned as he stepped back, taking his place to Arthur’s left, offering Merlin a quick, albeit confused, smile.

Merlin watched closely as Emrys bowed to Arthur and had to bite down on his tongue when he saw the flash of gold in the other man’s eyes. He scowled when Arthur rose to meet the man, hand outstretched to clasp an arm or an elbow, the scowl deepening when Arthur dismissed his guards and Leon. He could feel the faintest trace of magic in the air that didn’t belong to him or any of the known magic users that had made their home at Camelot and it unsettled him to the very core. He could see the man’s smile as he gently guided Arthur to the other side of the room, their heads bent in quiet conversation.

“Sire,” Merlin called out, never moving from the shadows. “What of the prophecy?”

Arthur threw a disgruntled look over his shoulder in Merlin’s direction, making Merlin roll his eyes; however it was the narrow-eyed glare that Merlin had only ever seen from Arthur’s uncle Agravaine that made Merlin grateful that he’d not been dismissed from what was likely an attempt on Arthur’s life.

“Forgive my servant,” Arthur said to the old man, his eyes never wavering from where Merlin stood at the back of the room. “He’s always been unable to hold his tongue when he should.”

“Perhaps you would benefit from finding him a place in the castle more fitting to his disposition?” The man calling himself Emrys said, his voice low and almost menacing.

Arthur’s laughter was light and filled the chamber and Merlin felt something sharp twist, low in his gut as he awaited Arthur’s response. “Merlin has been with me since before I became Crown Prince of Camelot. You could ask for no more loyal a servant than he. Though, often time I do wonder…” Arthur trailed off and motioned for the elderly man to walk with him some more.

“However, he does have a point.” Arthur said as they began another circuit of the room. “I’ve been searching for you for the better part of a year, Emrys and now that I have you, I would like your honest opinion on the Prophecy that will not only impact on both of our lives, but the lives of all the people of Camelot.”

“Opinion, m’Lord?” The imposter-Emrys asked, tilting his head so he could keep an eye on Merlin while giving Arthur the impression of his undivided attention.

“Yes, I’d like to hear your thoughts on the Prophecy, that is why you’re here, is it not?” Arthur stopped walking and looked at the man.

“Oh! Yes, the prophecy… I’m sorry my Lord, the journey to Camelot was long and I am afraid I am not the man I was twenty years ago.” He gave a slight inclination of his head. “Surely it would be far more prudent to discuss this once we are alone? The prophecy does contain such sensitive information.” He shot a quick look towards Merlin that didn’t go unnoticed by Arthur.

“I assure you that Merlin is already fully aware of all of the details of the Prophecy and that anything we discuss will go no further than this room.”

Merlin watched closely, his magic simmering just below the surface as he waited for the imposter to do something other than pace back and forwards in front of Arthur, wringing his hands. There was something about the imposter that disturbed the very air of the room and Merlin couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It wasn’t the magic, Merlin was far too used to the magic of others, particularly those that would do Arthur harm; it was in the way he kept looking from Merlin to the table and back again before attempting to focus on Arthur only to begin the cycle all over again.

The imposter took a deep breath and nodded slowly, wearily, obviously coming to some sort of conclusion that set Merlin’s teeth on edge.

“I believe the prophecy is false, my Lord.” His shoulders sagged and a tiny frown pulled at the corners of his lips, but he couldn’t hide the cold, calculating look in his eyes.

“False?” Arthur parroted back, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Are you entirely sure? We’ve had the brightest minds of Camelot, Caerleon and Escetir, not to mention several Druid delegations look into it and they have assured me that the original Seer was known for her accuracy.”

“I assure you, m’Lord. The prophecy is a trick, designed by those that call themselves Druids to turn your h-.” He was cut off by a low growl coming from the back of the room.

“You’re a liar and a Saxon sorcerer.” Merlin moved into the light, and there was no hiding the flash of gold in his eyes, not from this man and most certainly not from Arthur.

“Merlin?” Arthur took a step towards Merlin, his eyes wide as his gaze darted back and forth between Merlin and the man calling himself Emrys.

The imposter yelled, stepping back in fright and flinging up his hand, a bolt of sickly looking yellow magic aimed straight at Merlin who deflected it with a wave of his hand. “My Lord, look what the treacherous Druids have done! They’ve bewitched your manservant!” He stepped to the side, clearly moving away from Arthur.

Merlin could see the confusion on Arthur’s face and for all that he wanted to turn to his King, his friend, and assure him that he was still Merlin; he didn’t trust the man claiming to be Emrys.

“Arthur,” he said softly, his voice resuming its normal timbre. “I promise that I will explain everything, but you must send for Gaius straight away.”

“He’s calling for reinforcements, my Lord! You mustn’t listen to him!” The imposter threw another bolt of sickly yellow energy at Merlin, only for it to be deflected once again.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelled as the imposter raised his hand again, but this time the energy headed straight for Arthur. His hand stretched out in an attempt to deflect the bolt of energy, but rather than the magic, Arthur was shoved bodily out of the way and into the far wall, the threatening magic colliding with the round table and scorching the surface.

The doors to the chamber burst open, Leon and Perceval at the head of the Royal guard.

“The King is under attack!” Leon’s voice echoed through the chamber as he made his way to Arthur’s side.

“Merlin!” Perceval was making his way to Merlin, sword drawn and pointed towards the one unknown in the room – the imposter.

Merlin shook his head, eyes flashing gold. “Make sure Arthur is safe and then send for Gaius,” he said again, his gaze never leaving the imposter.

Perceval hesitated for a moment before nodding sharply and moving towards the still downed King. Merlin could see the short, whispered conversation between Leon and Perceval before Perceval headed for the door, no doubt going to fetch Gaius and several more of the Knights. Distracted by Leon’s hovering over Arthur who was just starting to come around, Merlin almost missed the other sorcerer’s mumbled curse and the way his fingers dashed out towards Merlin.

A sibilant hiss escaped Merlin’s mouth and a deep rumble worked its way up and out of his chest, his eyes burning molten gold as ancient words spilled over Merlin’s tongue, binding the sorcerer in front of him to keep him from harming Arthur and anyone else that should step into the room.

“You think your simple binding is enough to stop me?” The other sorcerer laughed and he pulled a small throwing dagger from the folds of his robes. “The prophecy will fail because there is no Emrys,” he spit out, preparing to throw the dagger.

Merlin lifted his hand again, the magic in his veins thrumming, however, before he could say anything, the other sorcerer’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent scream as the tip of Excalibur protruded through his chest.

“Emrys,” Arthur’s voice was gentle as he lifted his gaze to meet Merlin’s.

Merlin sighed and bowed his head. “My King,” he whispered, feeling the weight on his shoulders that had settled there the day he’d been assigned as Arthur’s manservant, finally melt away and a sense of peace took its place.

Excalibur dropped to the floor with a resounding ‘clang’, followed by the dull thumping of the dead sorcerer as Arthur approached Merlin; reaching up slowly and carefully so as not to spook Merlin, he clipped him around the back of the head and scowled. As the Gaius, Percival and a handful of other Knights came rushing back into the room he clipped him around the ear again, trying to keep the small smile from appearing at the corners of his mouth.

“You really are a complete idiot; aren’t you, _Mer_ lin?” Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Arthur’s hand dropped to Merlin’s shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze before turning to face the others and recount what had just happened.

~ _Fin!_ ~


End file.
